


Latch

by MapleLeafTea



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Begging, Chains, Comfort, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Inaccurate Stuttering??, M/M, Mentioned Huang Ren Jun, Mentioned Punishments, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sorry Not Sorry, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleLeafTea/pseuds/MapleLeafTea
Summary: “My, my, my,” Jaemin said, a yawn accompanying his words, “you sure know how to make some noise, don’t you?”
Relationships: Na Jaemin & Park Jisung, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Kudos: 12





	Latch

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a Whumptober prompt, but time said yEeT and left
> 
> Inspo from Whumpster-dumpster on Tumblr  
> 

No, no, no. He couldn’t be here again. Jisung sat up and looked around, feeling the hard concrete ground under his palms. He moved to get up, to look around, but his arms and feet were bound, restricting him. Tears started to well up in his eyes and he thrashed, chains rubbing his wrists and ankles raw, but he didn’t care. Something cold dug into his throat, and he choked, his thrashing coming to an abrupt stop. He whipped his head around, the jangling of chains accompanying it. 

A sob burst from his lips and he laid down, hair falling to cover his eyes as tears continued to leak from them. He sniffled loudly, sniffing up dirt and dust and he coughed, loud and harsh in the silence of his cell.

Jisung laid there, motionless until the unmistakable sound of his shoes echoed through the silent corridor, the rhythm of his walk permanently etched into Jisung’s mind.

He scrambled to his knees, chains clanging behind him. He cast his eyes downward, not daring to look up.

The door swung open, the oiled hinges quiet in comparison to Jisung’s panicked breathing. White and rose decorated shoes came into view. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, unmoving. He remembered when he defied him and his punishment; he’d been starved for a week, whipped, and muzzled.

“My, my, my,” Jaemin said, a yawn accompanying his words, “you sure know how to make some noise, don’t you?”

Jisung didn’t respond. 

“You know I need my beauty sleep, puppy. Why’d you do it? Huh?” 

Still no response. 

Jaemin’s hand found his jaw rather quickly and forced Jisung to look up, grip tight and unforgiving. His eyes shone with a mix of playfulness and anger. “I-I don’t know, sir,” he stuttered out, eyes not meeting Jaemin’s. 

“You don’t know?!” Jaemin barked out, letting go of Jisung and throwing his head to the side. Jaemin’s hand found him soon again, hand sliding gently across one of his face until his fingertips rested near the back of Jisung’s neck. He thumbed his ear lobe, flicking it softly. “C’mon, pup, you know there’s a reason. There’s a reason for everything.” He squeezed his neck a bit before backing off and hooking a finger under Jisung’s chin, making him look up.

“Unless you want a punishment?” His words lingered in the air, a heavy meaning behind them. It took Jisung a moment to put the words together in his head. 

“No, sir.” He mumbled, voice shaking.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you!” Jaemin said, voice ringing with twisted glee.

“N-no, s-sir!” He said, stutter worse as his voice gained volume.

“I still can’t hear you! My gosh, you must really want this punishment, then.” He muttered, waltzing away to where he knew his tools were kept. 

“Please, no, sir! Please don’t! I’ll listen, anything, just please don’t punish me! _Please!_ ” He screamed, tears streaming down his face, voice cracking and dry throat protesting.

“-sung! Jisung! Jisung wake up!” Jisung bolted upright, pleads dying on his lips as he registered where he was. 

Chenle was in front of him, eyebrows creased with worry. His hands were tight on Jisung’s shoulders but were quickly removed as he pulled Jisung into a hug. 

Seconds later, everything caught up to him and he broke, hands finding and gripping fistfuls of Chenle’s nightshirt like his life depended on it. His shoulders shook as loud, ugly sobs ripped through his body and he shoved his face into Chenle’s chest, staining his shirt with snot and tears. Chenle ran a hand through his hair and kept one firmly in the middle of his back, rubbing soothing circles. The ridges from the scars that littered Jisung’s back were ever present under his hands, but he never commented or lingered.

Chenle’s heart shattered a little. Sometimes he felt so useless when this happened, and all he could say was that he did his best.

Minutes passed and they stayed like that until Jisung’s crying reduced to soft sniffles. “Do you want me to stay?” Chenle asked quietly. Jisung nodded, still clutching his shirt like he was going to disappear. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“N-no, I jus-just wanna sl-sleep,” he stuttered out. Chenle couldn’t help but notice Jisung’s stuttering and made a mental note to talk to Renjun about it later. “Where? My room or here?” He asked softly. Jisung had a tendency to refuse to sleep in his own bed, let alone room after a nightmare. He would often stay in Chenle’s for days on end before returning to his own. 

“Yours.”

Not feeling entirely surprised, he eased Jisung onto his feet and they slowly made their way down the hall, Jisung clinging to him on the way. 

Once in Chenle’s room, he deposited Jisung onto his bed and went to light a stick of lavender scented incense, knowing it was one of Jisung’s favorite things. Then, he crawled into bed alongside Jisung and wrapped his arms around him, tucking his head under his chin and watched him drift off before closing his eyes and going too.


End file.
